Eighteen's Old Enough
by AphroditeLove
Summary: Oneshot NoirxFlorian. While admiring his servant from afar, Noir's eighteenyearold mind of which Florian loves to tease about travels into a swirl of romance and hormones just fitting for his eighteenyearold self. Is eighteen old enough for love?


Homg my first Gorgeous Carat fanfic. And homg, I have committed blasphemy. Guess who topped off Yami Bakura at bishi number 2?

-gasps- NOIR! Paris's most notorious 'Phantom Thief'. Who does this sound like, hmmn? And oh! Oh! For those who have read "Gorgeous Carat" and like Yu-Gi-Oh, who does THIS sound like, humn? Tanned skin, white hair, blue eyes and a scar over his right eye! Dammit, curse you AZURA! -falls in love with Azura and cries over his fate in Volume 3- Azura, Bakura, Azura, Bakura, Azura, Bakura-----NOIR. -faints- I LOVE YOU NOIR!

Noir can look FREAKISHlY like Yami Bakura at times. They grin the same sadistically, it's scary. Azura looks nothing like thief Bakura, but his properites and just how you describe him is nearly the same. Azura's slimmer and taller and more slender though, and has a more brutal coldness than Thief bakura's bluntess.

No, Florian has not topped Ryou yet, but he's getting close. Fight, Ryou, FIGHT!

Florian reminds me of Malik...with a Ryou/Raoul twist...

...in general, I LOVE NOIR. Foolish Florian for not realizing how much Noir LOVES YOU.

Oneshot. Cause I don't want to wite another long fic like NK2. -in love with Noir-

Read and Review. Forgive me for this crap cause I can't write. And btw, Gorgeous Carat is not owned by me (duh). So no own characters. TT -sad- I want Noir and Florian in my closet...TT

Thief Bakura's pic was up in my locker today. Guess who replaced him. As an honorary thing, we put Thief Bakura below Noir, but from that angle, Thief Bakura's eyes were more narrowed, so he looked angrier than nomral. XD My friends and I joked about how if we closed my locker, we'd hear thief Bakura cursing and suddenly a fight ensue from my locker. And if I had opened my locker, Noir would be sporting a bruise on his flawless cheek. Oh yeah, and plushie Ryou would grow into a giant plushie Ryou and try to stop Noir and Bakura from killing each ohter off.

Btw, did I mention Noir has a whip? A whip that can resemble the ultimate Phantom Punjab Lasso?

It's no wonder I love Noir.

* * *

Eighteen's Old Enough

_You don't really care, do you?_

Noir rested his chin against the palm of his hand, watching discreetly as his amethyst-eyed servant move stealthily along the shelves. Those silky blond trends were swept just over his shoulder, giving him a most graceful, almost illusional look.

His vest was buttoned along the length of his stomach, and his shoulders more pronounced beneath those gentlemanly sleeves. Noir found himself thinking quite lecherously about how Florian's bare arms would look underneath those chunky sleeves…would they be slim and slender to match his feminine allure, or would they be stronger, firmer, to fit his twenty-year-old nobility?

Noir smirked. He wouldn't mind betting most of his priceless, stolen jewels that those arms beneath those billowing sleeves were slim and slender. Or betting that Florian's stomach was soft and taut. Or betting that Florian's hair was more soft than that of Arabia's most priceless silks…

Noir shook his head. What was he thinking?

_"The great Noir is not interested in women? I'm surprised…"_

Noir found himself blushing darkly and quickly turned his head away from Florian's direction.

_No…but I'm interested in you…_

Noir's face felt increasingly warmer, and quickly, he grabbed a nearby cigar and stuffed it into his mouth. Florian caught the unusually brash move and looked over curiously, his amethyst eyes glimmering in the sunlight that shone from the nearby window.

"Noir?"

When Noir said nothing, Florian just shook it off and returned to his researching duties. From the corner of his eye, Noir watched as Florian ran a finger down every spine of each book, caress every cover and finger every page. Noir shuddered with intense delight and perverted wonder of how those hands would run, caress, and finger every inch of his own bare skin.

_But you don't really care, do you?_

Barely noticeable, Noir shook his head. Somehow, sitting so far away from Florian's amazing glow, Noir felt rather unclean and dirtied compared to the angelic beauty in the corner. His own long hair was messy and slick and black---his actions, no matter how polished or sophisticated, had a roughness to it from his life in Arabia. Florian's looks and manners, however, were complete opposite. He was smooth, graceful, clean and neat and polished in every aspect mentionable. He was the very essence of French beauty.

_After all we've been though…did you even notice at all?_

Too many a time Noir remembered the blonde's impressive fiery temper and loyalty. Too many a time did Noir had to restrain Florian from jumping right into another trap, but ending up getting a blackened eye or a bruised cheek in the process, before having to go save Florian once more. It just then occurred to Noir that despite how often he was exasperated that Florian's streak of courage was most annoying, he didn't mind saving his little damsel in distress on every occasion.

Sadly enough, Florian never acted much like a damsel in distress would after her---his---white---black knight in shining amour would come for rescue. Often Florian would be still peeved from any earlier restraint, convinced that Noir was an evil and cruel-hearted bastard and thief, an ungrateful lowlife who dwelled in the pleasure of chaining people in his dark underground dungeon. Noir found that the most annoying of these saving-the-damsel escapades was this reaction. Come to think of it, Florian never said so much as a thank you…

Noir scowled. Some part of him was repulsed at how highly Florian thought of himself, but at the same time, that pride and courage allured Noir within its lightly grasp. He liked that fire behind those gorgeous amethyst eyes. They were sharp, they were alive, they were warm and tender and soft and naïve all at once…

_I'm still in that age,_ Noir thought suddenly. His scowl deepened and he drew a deep breath from his cigar, puffing little tufts of smoke to emphasize his frustration. His fingers danced impatiently on the grip of his whip, hiding beneath the desk and comflauged against the darkness of his suit.

So what if Florian was two years older than him? The boy certainly didn't act like that…whiny noble little royal brat…

"Noir?"

Noir snapped his head back to attention, and saw Florian was looking at him curiously. Noir scowled and lashed out defensively at his servant with more force than necessary.

"What?"

Florian looked startled for a moment, but maintained his ground. He placed a book on Noir's desk and flipped to its correct page, and bookmarked it front of Noir.

"I've found some more information if you want it," Florian said matter-of-factly. Noir listened distantly, realizing just how down-to-earth the boy sounded. Dammit----it was as if he was merely just a servant, and nothing more. Not a beauty, not an obsession, not a gorgeous vision that haunted the edges of Noir's romance life----

"Good job then." Noir secretly cursed himself for how faint his own voice sounded. But somehow, he could not tear away from gazing so longingly at the beauty before him. Frustratingly enough, Florian didn't even notice and continue flipping through the pages, his blond hair curtaining so gracefully over his lashed eyes.

"And there's some more information about that jewel's history here…I'm not sure how much that will help though…"

_Amethyst eyes,_ Noir thought dumbly. He needed a mind that could repeat beyond, _Amethyst eyes, gorgeous amethyst eyes, dammit I want those amethyst eyes----are they real…?_

Those aforementioned amethyst eyes flickered briefly to Noir's own green ones, before returning to the book.

"…the history concerns around a dramatic romance story…I doubt that will interest you though…"

_Depending on who it surrounds,_ Noir retorted numbly. _Dammit----amethyst eyes, gorgeous amethyst eyes…_

"…there's some highlights on it…I couldn't write them down, but I've bookmarked them with the ribbon here…the tale of a beauty goddess and her enchanted girdle…"

_Girdle…?_ Noir's mind didn't even reach that aspect yet. _What the hell is that…?_

"…and how she bares herself while bathing in the bond with this enchanted girdle…"

_Bare? Bare? Bare's good, just what I was thinking…_

"…what do you think?"

Momentarily Noir's mouth couldn't work. All he could imagine was a pretty blonde Florian bathing in the shallow water of a pond dressed in nothing but soaked linens and with laurel leaves wrapped around his gorgeous golden hair. His amethyst eyes shielded with those thick, heavenly lashes, those soft pink lips that begged to be kissed, those sweet, smooth porcelain shoulders that Noir wanted so badly to see at this point…

Suddenly, Noir's head connected with the flat side of the book, and he was jostled back into reality. He shook his head and glared at Florian menacingly, before realizing that the boy was actually smirking.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Noir," Florian smiled. He smiled in such a way that it was almost cheeky, so wide and pleased with himself as though he was sharing some deep inner secret. Noir scowled and rubbed the bump on his head.

"What gutter?" he mumbled and dove his hand for his cigar, which had dropped from his mouth during his gaze on Florian. Florian's smile grew and he shook his head, his cascade of blond hair shifting so beautifully from side to side.

"That's right, I forgot," Florian grinned, but it was obvious he _didn't_ forget. "You're only still of that age, aren't you? Only eighteen…you still have those feelings that every teen is supposed to have before they grow to be a man…you're not old enough yet…" Florian's eyes twinkled briefly and he shook his head, closing his eyes and looking most amused. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Noir."

Noir scowled deeply as he watched Florian walk back to the bookshelf, having realized that the blond had fooled him most evilly. He snorted and puffed out another tuft of smoke huffily, watching Florian return back to his work like no more than a servant on duty.

Noir exhaled shortly and wheeled his chair away, so his back was facing Florian.

"Eighteen's old enough," Noir muttered.


End file.
